City Of Heavenly Fire
by The Perks Of Being A Charli
Summary: In the long-awaited conclusion to the acclaimed Mortal Instruments series, Clary and her friends fight the greatest evil they have ever faced: Clary's own brother.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She had missed him.

She had missed the steadiness of his arms around her, the love that lit up his golden eyes when he looked at her, the shivers that crawled up her arms when she touched him.

Everything had been so hectic lately. The frantic search for Sebastian had meant that they were all out on patrols every waking moment. Finding him was the Clave's top priority now; they could not afford a repeat of that fatal night at the Seventh Sacred Site.

The arrival of the Angel wings at the New York institute had sent the Clave into a panicked frenzy: they had promptly given orders for all Shadowhunters to devote all their time to the search for Sebastian. They wanted him brought to their doorstep, dead or alive.

And all the extra patrols and planning had meant that Clary had had very little opportunity to be with Jace.

He had been discharged from hospital a few weeks ago, once the golden glow had faded. It was still visible, but so faint that it was barely noticeable. She could feel it when she touched him, though; a slight buzz of energy coursing through her veins.

Of course, as soon as he had left the hospital, Jace had been determined to join the patrols. After much debating and arguing, the Clave had eventually agreed.

"Just let him do it," Maryse had said, throwing her hands up in the air, "He'll never be happy until he's out there hunting Sebastian, so he may as well do it legally, under the Clave's supervision."

Clary and Jace never seemed to be on patrols together, though, and Clary privately suspected that this was not a coincidence.

However, today was different. It was the first day off they had had in weeks. Because today was the wedding of Luke and Jocelyn.

Clary was happy for them, of course. But what made her happiest was the prospect of a day filled with sunshine and music, in Jace's arms.

She looked up, her green eyes finding his. His eyes were so beautiful, flecked with a thousand different shades of gold.

"You look beautiful," Jace told her, tugging gently at her pale green dress. She smiled.

"So do you," she said, sliding her arms around him and feeling the hard ridges of muscle under his shirt.

"Yes, but I always do, so it's hardly worth commenting on."

She laughed and punched him playfully. "You should wear suits more often. They suit you."

"They do bring out my sophisticated side," he agreed, admiring himself in the full-length mirror across the room.

Someone banged on the door, loudly.

"Are you two decent?" came Simon's voice. He then walked in, without waiting for an answer. "You look great," he said.

"Thank you," said Clary and Jace, at the same time.

"I was talking to Clary," Simon said, raising an eyebrow. Jace shot him an injured glance.

"What about me?" he complained, "Don't I look great, too?"

"I thought you always looked great, so it was hardly worth commenting on?" said Clary, innocently. She and Simon laughed, as Jace stalked out of the room, muttering.

"Are you ready?" asked Simon.

"I think so," she replied, checking her red curls in the mirror.

"I mean, are you ready for this? Are you ready for the wedding? Ready for Luke to become your stepdad?"

"He always has been," said Clary, with a shrug, "This is just making it official."

"I guess that's true," conceded Simon, "Shall we go, then?"

"Okay," she said, following him out of the room.

"Have you been to see your mum yet?" he asked, as they headed down the corridor.

"No, I should probably go and see if she needs anything," she replied, "I won't be long. Go find Isabelle, I'll meet you there."

"Okay," he said, hugging her quickly and heading off down the staircase.

Clary made her way to her mother's room, and knocked.

"Come in!" called Jocelyn, so she entered, and her breath caught in her throat.

Her mother was wearing a strapless dress of palest gold, her hair cascading down one shoulder in a waterfall of perfect red curls. A circlet of twisted gold leaves held her golden veil in place. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the kind of beautiful that made people stop and stare in the streets.

"Don't stand there with your mouth open, darling, it's very unbecoming," she reproached her. Clary quickly closed her mouth (she hadn't even realised it was open) and adjusted her green dress, suddenly feeling inadequate in the face of her mother's radiance.

"You look so beautiful," she told her, weakly. Jocelyn's smile was wide and genuine.

"Thank you. So do you."

And she took Clary in her arms, and Clary could feel all the tensions that had arisen between them in the last few weeks simply melt away.

Later, Clary headed down through the streets of Alicante, to the Accords Hall. She spotted Jace, Simon, Isabelle and Alec standing over one side, and walked over to them.

Isabelle looked perfect, as usual, in a short, light pink dress, with her dark hair piled on top of her head, a couple of strands framing her face.

Alec wore a midnight blue suit, which brought out the colour in his sad, blue eyes. He'd started wearing a lot of blue lately. Magnus had always said that blue suited him.

Isabelle and Simon were holding hands, she realised. Simon looked a little confused, while Isabelle looked ever so slightly smug. Alec, caught up in his melancholia, barely seemed to have noticed.

"Clary!" exclaimed Isabelle, running over to hug her. "Want a drink?"

"Sure," said Clary, following her over to the table laden with strange foods and drinks. "How's Alec?"

"Still just as depressing as ever. I half expect him to start singing along to Taylor Swift songs and eating ice-cream out of the tub. I mean, he and Magnus dated, and then they broke up. That's what people do. They date, and they break up. It's about time he got over it, for god's sake." Isabelle grumbled, pouring herself a small glass of a clear, blue liquid.

"Sometimes it's not that easy, though." She said, "For example, how would you feel if you would probably never see Simon again?"

Isabelle bit her lip, her dark eyes thoughtful. Clary poured herself a drink, and a glass of blood for Simon, and the pair went back to join the boys.

An hour or so later, the guests had all arrived and taken their seats, and Clary walked down the aisle holding an exquisite bouquet of flowers. Her palms were sweaty, her arms shaking slightly, as all the guests craned their necks to look at her. She forced a smile onto her face, her eyes scanning the crowd for Jace, Isabelle and Alec. They were sat together, near the front, next to Maryse and Robert Lightwood.

She tore her gaze away from Jace, and looked down the aisle. Luke was wearing his black ceremonial gear, marked with golden runes. Beside him was Simon, holding a golden stele, and an old, stern-looking man whom, she assumed, would officiate.

Simon had been both surprised and honoured when Luke had asked him to be his best man.

"Why me?" he had blurted out.

"Because you're like a son to me," Luke had replied, with a shrug.

Clary reached the end of the aisle, and the Shadowhunter's anthem began to play. The guests stood up to sing, as the double doors opened and Jocelyn walked through the arched doorway.

Her beauty was unearthly. Everyone's eyes were on her as, smiling demurely, she walked down the aisle.

She reached the altar, and her eyes met Luke's. He smiled, really smiled, for the first time since his sister's death.

The ceremony began, and the old man's voice was monotonous and droning. Jocelyn took off her engagement ring and handed it to Luke, as was customary. Then Simon handed Luke the golden stele.

"Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death." Quoted the old man, as the couple marked one another with the runes of love and commitment, over the heart and arm.

And so they were married, and a bell began to ring, and Luke kissed his beautiful bride. And no one watching them could possibly doubt their love.

A couple of hours later, Clary stood next to Jace. The after-party was still raging on.

"One day, that'll be us." Said Jace, suddenly, "Walking down the aisle, I mean. It'll be us. Okay?"

"Okay," whispered Clary, leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you, Clary." He murmured, as they pulled apart. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She said, quietly.

His eyes now filled with a kind of desperation, he said "When I was possessed by Sebastien… When I was with you, but not really there… Those were the worst few days of my life. I never want to let you go again."

"Just one more time?" said Clary, disentangling herself from him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, concerned.

"Can you let me go just one more time? Because I really need the toilet."

Jace laughed. "I guess I could bear that," he joked, "As long as you promise to come back."

"I promise," she grinned.

Clary battled her way through the crowd, heading for the toilets. She finally reached them, and went inside, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it, her head pounding from the loud music.

She walked over to the sink, and splashed her face with cold water. She heard a toilet flush, and in the mirror she saw a cubicle door open, and a white-haired boy step out.

"Hello, little sister," said Sebastien, with a cold smile. Clary spun round, clutching the sink for support.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"What kind of a son would I be if I didn't even come to my mother's wedding?" he said, with a shrug.

I


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"What do you want?" hissed Clary, trying to keep her anger under control.

"Would you be willing to believe that I just want a slice of wedding cake?" asked Sebastien, innocently.

She glared at him.

"I'll take that as a no," he sighed, "I'm here to offer you a choice, little sister. The demons are coming. Idris will fall, and the race we call the Nephilim will die out. Shadowhunters have hidden in the shadows for too long; we are braver, stronger and more intelligent than the mundanes, and we should be ruling over them, not hiding from them. I will lead a new race of Shadowhunters, and I want you to be by my side while I do it."

"You're crazy," she told him, shaking her head.

"Clary, the wards are weakening. Already, more and more demons are escaping into the world. Do you want a painful death? Or do you want to be exalted beyond all others, worshipped until the end of days?"

"I'll pick the painful death, thanks." She told him, frostily. He sighed once more.

"So be it," he said, regretfully. "I would kill you now, but there are about 300 wedding guests out there, and I'm sure I can count on you to make enough noise to draw them in here. I could escape, of course, but frankly it's not worth the effort. I've been a little weak ever since you tried to kill me."

He turned to leave.

"Wait!" said Clary, suddenly. He looked back, his gaze questioning. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"How did you survive it? When I stabbed Jace, why did you not die?"

His eyes were sad as he said "Maybe there's more good in me than you think."

And with that he simply disappeared, and Clary's head was spinning. Sebastien was pure evil, wasn't he? He had killed the real Sebastien, and Max, and Amatis. He had stabbed Luke. He had possessed Jace. He had done all those evil things, and so much more. Yes, there was no good in his soul.

_But he survived that sword thrust_, teased a little voice in the back of her mind.

She tasted blood, and realised that she had bitten into her bottom lip. After wiping the blood from her mouth, she left the bathroom in search of Jace.

She found him with Simon and Isabelle.

"Where's Alec?" she shouted, over the loud music.

"God knows," shrugged Isabelle, pushing her dark hair out of hair face. She had let down, now. It looked better down.

"Probably trying to ring Magnus again," muttered Jace, "If he doesn't stop doing that, I'm going to break his phone."

"I seriously doubt that he's ringing Magnus," said Simon, mildly.

"Why?" asked Isabelle, looking a little confused.

"Because Magnus is over there."

Clary followed his gaze, and saw Magnus over the other side of the room. He was talking to Camille Belcourt, and, as she watched, Camille leaned in and kissed him.

Isabelle breathed in, sharply.

"Alec can't know about this," she ordered, gripping Clary's arm. They all nodded in agreement.

"Why is Camille here, anyway? I'm sure she wasn't on the guest list." Clary said, frowning.

"Must be Magnus' plus one," suggested Simon, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and congratulate Luke and Jocelyn."

"So do I," agreed Jace, following Simon off through the crowd.

"Come dance with me," said Isabelle, to Clary. Clary nodded, and the two girls headed for the packed dance floor.

She danced until her limbs ached and her breath came out in short little gasps. She lost herself in the music, forgetting about Sebastien and the upcoming war and all her worries and troubles.

Until eventually, exhausted, she spotted Jace's blond hair and pushed her way through the dancing guests to get to him.

"You look tired," remarked Jace, wrapping an arm around her to support her. She leaned into him.

"I'm exhausted," she admitted, watching Isabelle, who was still dancing.

"Are you okay? I meant to ask you earlier, but we had company... You've looked a little… haunted, since you went to the bathroom."

"I'm fine," she told him, forcing a smile, "Seen Alec?"

"I think he must be hiding from Magnus," shrugged Jace.

Just then, a love ballad started playing. Clary could see Isabelle and Simon dancing in one another's arms.

"Are you too tired for one last dance?" asked Jace, hesitantly. She smiled.

"I think I could manage just one last one."

He took her hand and lead her onto the dance floor, and, as they danced slowly, Clary was reminded of how much she loved him, and how much she had to fight for.

And just how much she had to lose.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Team Good assembled at the park for an emergency meeting.

It was warm, for an October afternoon. Isabelle, Simon, Clary and Jace sat on the grass discussing Sebastien's strange visit, while Alec sat in the corner, once again trying to ring Magnus.

"So what did he say _exactly_?" pressed Isabelle.

"I told you," replied Clary, wearily, "He said that the wards are breaking and the demons are coming. He plans to rule over the mundanes, and he wants me to do it with him."

"We need to make some sort of plan," said Simon, helpfully.

"We shouldn't," protested Isabelle. "The Clave has a plan."

"The Clave has the collective intelligence of a pineapple," said Jace.

Alec blinked up at them. "Jace is right."

Isabelle turned on her brother. "What do ___you _know? You weren't even paying attention."

"I was," Alec said, injured. "I said Jace was right."

"Yeah, but there's like a 90% chance of me being right most of the time, so that's not proof you were listening," said Jace. "That's just a good guess."

Alec sighed, and turned his gaze back to his mobile phone.

"I think I should pretend to go along with it, like last time." Clary suggested, quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Jace, sharply, "Sebastien's not an idiot. He won't fall for that again. I'm not even sure he fell for it the first time."

"You'd just be putting yourself in danger," agreed Simon.

"Definitely not." Isabelle told her, firmly.

"Anyway, we- _will you put that bloody phone down_?"

Jace knocked the phone out of Alec's hand, sending it flying into a the trunk of a nearby tree. Alec cried out, and jumped to his feet, running over to where the phone had landed.

Alec looked down at the shattered pieces in disbelief. "You BROKE my PHONE."

Jace shrugged. "Guys don't let other guys keep calling other guys. Okay, that came out wrong. Friends don't let friends keep calling their exes and hanging up. Seriously. You have to stop."

Alec looked furious. "So you broke my brand new phone? Thanks a lot."

Jace smiled serenely and lay back on the grass. "You're welcome."

Alec gathered up the pieces of his phone, and stalked off, muttering angrily.

"Someone's in a bad mood," remarked Jace, mildly.

"You did just break his phone," Clary reminded him.

"Nonsense. I knocked his phone out of his hand. The tree broke his phone."

"Anyway," Simon cut in, "I think you should tell the Clave about Sebastien."

"Not yet," disagreed Clary, "He won't visit me again if he knows the Clave's watching out for him. I might be able to learn something important."

Over the next few weeks, all Clary's time was taken up by patrols, until, one late November morning, Simon called her.

"Hey," she said, picking up the phone.

"Hey," he replied, "Want to take the day off and do some Christmas shopping."

"Okay," she agreed, "See you in five? Fifth Avenue?"

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

The Frays had never been a religiously observant family, but Clary loved Fifth Avenue at Christmas time. The air smelled like sweet roasted chestnuts, and the window displays sparkled with silver and blue, green and red. This year there were fat round crystal snowflakes attached to each lamppost, sending back the winter sunlight in shafts of gold. Not to mention the huge tree at Rockefeller Center. It threw its shadow across them as she and Simon draped themselves over the gate at the side of the skating rink, watching tourists fall down as they tried to navigate the ice.

Clary had a hot chocolate wrapped in her hands, the warmth spreading through her body. She felt almost normal—this, coming to Fifth to see the window displays and the tree, had been a winter tradition for her and Simon for as long as she could remember.

"Feels like old times, doesn't it?" he said, echoing her thoughts as he propped his chin on his folded arms.

She chanced a sideways look at him. He was wearing a black topcoat and scarf that emphasized the winter pallor of his skin. His eyes were shadowed, indicating that he hadn't fed on blood recently. He looked like what he was—a hungry, tired vampire.

Well, she thought. Almost like old times. "More people to buy presents for," she said. "Plus, the always traumatic what-to-buy-someone-for-the-first-Christmas-after-you've-started-dating question."

"What to get the Shadowhunter who has everything," Simon said with a grin.

"Jace mostly likes weapons," Clary sighed. "He likes books, but they have a huge library at the Institute. He likes classical music …" She brightened. Simon was a musician; even though his band was terrible, and was always changing their name—currently they were Lethal Soufflé—he did have training. "What would you give someone who likes to play the piano?"

"A piano."

"___Simon_."

"A really huge metronome that could also double as a weapon?"

Clary sighed, exasperated.

"Sheet music. Rachmaninoff is tough stuff, but he likes a challenge."

"Now you're talking. I'm going to see if there's a music store around here." Clary, done with her hot chocolate, tossed the cup into a nearby trash can and pulled her phone out. "What about you? What are you giving Isabelle?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Simon said. They had started heading toward the avenue, where a steady stream of pedestrians gawking at the windows clogged the streets.

"Oh, come on. Isabelle's easy."

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about." Simon's brows drew together. "I think. I'm not sure. We haven't discussed it. The relationship, I mean."

"You really have to DTR, Simon."

"What?"

"Define the relationship. What it is, where it's going. Are you boyfriend and girlfriend, just having fun, 'it's complicated,' or what? When's she going to tell her parents? Are you allowed to see other people?"

Simon blanched. "What? Seriously?"

"Seriously. In the meantime—perfume!" Clary grabbed Simon by the back of his coat and hauled him into a cosmetics store that had once been a bank. It was massive on the inside, with rows of gleaming bottles everywhere. "And something unusual," she said, heading for the fragrance area. "Isabelle isn't going to want to smell like everyone else. She's going to want to smell like figs, or vetiver, or—"

"Figs? Figs have a smell?" Simon looked horrified; Clary was about to laugh at him when her phone buzzed. It was her mother.

___where are you? It's an emergency._


	4. Chapter 4

Not much had changed at Magnus's since the first time Jace had been there. Jace used an open rune to get through the front door and took the stairs, buzzing Magnus's apartment bell. It was safer that way because Magnus could be playing video games naked, or really anything. Magnus yanked the door open, looking furious. He was wearing a black silk dressing gown, his feet were bare, his dark hair was tangled, "What are you doing here?"

"My," said Jace, "You're so unwelcoming."

"That's because you're not welcome."

"I thought we were friends," said Jace.

"No, you're Alec's friend, Alec was my boyfriend so I had to put up with you. But now he's not my boyfriend so I don't have to put up with you."

"I think you should get back together with Alec," said Jace.

Magnus looked at him, "And why is that?"

"I think," Jace said, "that you don't want to tell your secrets, so you decided to break up with Alec because you loved him, and you were scared. Scared that you loved him too much, and, more importantly, trusted him. You were scared that eventually, you'd tell him something important. Something that would give him power over you."

Magnus' catlike eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I think you'd better come in." He told Jace.

Jace followed him through to the sitting room, taking a seat amongst the many empty takeout containers.

Magnus stretched out on the sofa, running his hand through his hair.

"So, how is Alec?"

"Miserable," said Jace, bluntly, "That's why I'm here."

Magnus rolled onto his back and put his feet up on the arm of the sofa. "What do you care if Alec's miserable?"

"What do I _care?" _Jace said, so loudly that Chairman Meow rolled off the couch and landed on the floor. "Of course I care about Alec; he's my best friend, my _parabatai. _And he's unhappy. And so are you, by the look of things. Takeout containers everywhere, you haven't done anything to fix up the place, your cat looks dead —"

"He's not dead."

Just then, Jace's phone began to ring.

* * *

Clary quickly tapped out a reply:

___xmas shopping with simon. where are you? _

Her phone buzzed once more.

_Alicante_

"What's wrong?" asked Simon, concerned.

"It's Mom. She didn't say what's wrong, but she said it's an emergency. We need to get to get to Alicante. _Now_."

"I can't go to Alicante, remember?" protested Simon.

Clary bit her lip.

"I'm ringing Jace," she decided, dialing his number and pressing the phone against her ear. He picked up after one ring.

"Clary?" he said, "What's wrong?"

"We need to get to Alicante. It's an emergency."

He must have heard the urgence in her tone, because, for once, he didn't argue.

"Where are you?"

"Fifth Avenue."

"Meet me at Magnus' in 15 minutes."

"Magnus'? Why Magnus'?"

"Were you planning to _walk_ to Alicante? We need a portal, Clary."

"I can make one."

"No." Jace's tone was sharp, "It's too dangerous. Just meet me at Magnus', okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

She hung up, shoving her phone into her pocket.

"We're meeting Jace at Magnus'." she told Simon, pushing her way through the chattering crowds of tourists.

"Will Alec be there?" asked Simon, raising an eyebrow.

"I doubt it."

They took a cab to Magnus' appartment.

"Jace is already here, I guess." Clary said, pointing at the faded ruin on the door. Simon nodded, following her up the stairs to the appartment.

Jace opened the door when they arrived.

"How long have you been here?" asked Clary, suspiciously.

"Not long," he replied, evasively.

"Whoa. Hooking up with your best friend's ex? Not cool, dude. Not cool." Simon said, with a grin.

"You brought the vampire?" sighed Jace.

"I thought we'd got over that 'the vampire' thing?" objected Simon, "I thought you'd actually bothered to learn my name."

"I guess I must just have a terrible memory," replied Jace, mockingly.

"Enough." Clary said, firmly. "Will Magnus make the portal?"

"He took some... _convincing,_ but he eventually agreed." Jace said.

"Convincing?"

"Violence."

"Jace!"

"Don't worry, he's fine."

"Good."

"His cat's a bit shaken up, though."

"Jace!"

Magnus stuck his head around the corner. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, his hair tangled and unwashed.

"It's ready." He said, bad-temperedly.

"Thank you," said Jace, with an angelic smile.

"You're lucky Chairman Meow didn't bite you," muttered Magnus, as he stalked off.

"Are you ready?" Jace asked Clary. She nodded.

"Let's go. Simon, I-"

"I'm fine," he interrupted, "I'll go buy some fig perfume."

Clary laughed, and hugged him, before following Jace into Magnus' sitting room.

"Figs have a smell?" asked Jace, puzzled.

The pair stepped through the portal.

Once again, Clary felt as though she were in the midst of a hurricane, the wind tearing at her from all angles. She held tightly to Jace's hand, afraid of losing the reassuring pressure of his grip.

And suddenly she was blinking in the sunlight of another world, the frosty grass beneath her feet so much greener than the grass back home.

"Why does Simon want to smell like figs?" demanded Jace.

"Never mind," laughed Clary.

"We better get a horse from somewhere," decided Jace, getting his bearings. "We're a fair way from Alicante."

"Where?" asked Clary. Jace pointed at a nearby farm.

After haggling for a frisky-looking horse named Wayfarer, they rode off, heading west. Clary felt umcomfortable on the horse, having never ridden before, whereas Jace was graceful and elegant. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Idris had been green and gold and russet in the autumn, when Clary had first been there. It had a stark grandeur in the winter: the mountains rose in the distance, capped white with snow, and the trees along the side of the road that led back to Alicante from the lake were stripped bare, their leafless branches making lace-like patterns against the bright sky.

Sometimes Jace would slow the horse to point out the manor houses of the richer Shadowhunter families, hidden from the road when the trees were full but revealed now. She felt his shoulders tense as they passed one that nearly melded with the forest around it: it had clearly been burned and rebuilt. Some of the stones still bore the black marks of smoke and fire. "The Blackthorn manor," he said. "Which means that around this bend in the road is …" He paused as Wayfarer summited a small hill, and reined him in so they could look down to where the road split in two. One direction led back toward Alicante — Clary could see the demon towers in the distance — while the other curled down toward a large building of mellow golden stone, surrounded by a low wall. " … the Herondale manor," Jace finished.

The wind picked up; icy, it ruffled Jace's hair. Clary had her hood up, but he was bare-headed and bare-handed, having said he hated wearing gloves when horseback riding. He liked to feel the reins in his hands. "Did you want to go and look at it?" she asked.

His breath came out in a white cloud. "I'm not sure."


	5. Chapter 5

"I... No. I don't." Jace decided.

"Are you sure?" asked Clary. He hesitated.

"Yes. I'm not... ready for this." He said, more firmly. Clary nodded, and they rode on, and she pretended not to see the silver glisten of tears in his eyes.

A few hours later, they arrived on the edges of Alicante. Even from that distance, Clary could see that all was not well.

Smoke rose in thick, black columns from the centre of the fairytale city. Screams echoed off the glass towers, shouts of panic mixed with cries of pain. Clary remembered the first time she had visited Idris; it had seemed so perfect, beautiful, outside of time. So far removed from the busy streets of New York.

Jace swore, and pushed Wayfarer into a gallop. Clary clung to him tightly, as she was thrown around in the saddle.

They rode into the city, galloping through the cobbled streets. Cold dread filled Clary's heart; _what if they were too late_?

"Clary!"

"Jace! Clary!"

Jace reigned in the horse, as Isabelle and Jocelyn sprinted over to them. Isabelle got there first, breathing heavily.

"Izzy? What happened?" demanded Jace, sharply.

"It's Sebastian!" she cried, "He's attacking the Institute!"

"We've managed to get the Council to safety, but we don't know why he's here, or what he plans to do, so all we can do is try to keep his army at bay and evacuate the children." Jocelyn said, grimly, "We need your help evacuating them. Hurry!"

Clary and Jace dismounted the horse, and the four ran for the institute. They entered through the open doors, the sounds of battle raging around them.

Spotting a small boy crying in the corner, Clary ran for him and scooped him up in her arms.

"Sssh," she crooned, running for the exit, "It's okay. Ssh."

A knife came wizzing towards her, and she rolled to avoid it, protecting the boy with her body. She jumped to her feet and sprinted towards the doors, pushing her way through the fighting Shadowhunters.

She escaped out into the open, her hair caked with dust. Looking around, she noticed an abandoned building not too far away.

"Hide in there," she instructed the boy, who, upon closer examination, appeared to be about 10 years old. Obediently, he ran for the building, and disappeared through the door.

The fight was spilling out into the streets, now. She grabbed an abandoned Seraph blade, and ran back into the fray.

Strong, pale arms grabbed her from behind. She turned around, and opened her mouth to scream, but he pressed her against the wall, one hand over her mouth.

"Run," said Sebastian, urgently, his voice panicked, "Run, Clary, Run!" And then he let go of her and sprinted up the chipped marble staircase, a stele in his hand.

And Clary ran.

She didn't know why she was trusting him. He was the enemy. But there was something about the urgency, the utter panic in his voice as he told her to run.

She could see Jace and Jocelyn fighting near the door, Isabelle and Alec not far from them.

"Run!" she screamed, "Everybody, run!"

Jace, Jocelyn, Isabelle and Alec obeyed her instantly, whereas some Shadowhunters stood hesitated uncertainly, as their enemies followed Sebastien up the stairs.

"Do as she say!" roared Jace, running out of the Institute after Clary. Alec followed, then Isabelle, then Jocelyn. A few Shadowhunters decided to do as she said, and they began to run for the door.

But they were too late.

The doors slammed shut.

The Institute began to glow, and Clary could see Sebastian leap from the top window. His army jumped out after him, all of them disappearing before they hit the ground.

"I'll have to get him to teach me how to do that," muttered Jace.

And then, with a terrible groaning sound, the Institute began to tremble, thick smoke began to rise off it, the windows all cracked and showered them with shards of glass.

"Run!" Jocelyn shouted, sharply. And Clary turned and ran, in blind panic, as, with an immense crash that rang of finality, the Institute collapsed and a cloud of thick, black smoke began to billow through the streets of Alicante.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hi!**_

_**Thanks so much for the reviews :)**_

_**As Sunali pointed out, I've been trying to add some of the City Of Heavenly Fire Sneak Peeks into the fanfic, to make it more realistic :) hope you like it!**_

_**MahnoorAppleAnsari: I'll try to make the chapters a little longer, but I have my GCSEs soon, so I don't have a lot of time for fanfic-writing amongst all the revision :/**_

_**~The Perks Of Being A Charli**_

* * *

Her blind panic lending her strength, Clary ran.

Her boots slammed against the stones of the cobbled streets, her hair streaming out behind her. She risked a glance over her shoulder, and could see the billowing, black dust cloud mere metres behind her. Rolling to avoid the burning debris, she mentally ran through her options, and realised that she only had one: to just keep running, and hope she could outrun the dust cloud. So, gritting her teeth, she ran, pouring all her energy and fear into it.

But even so, it was gaining on her fast. She began to cough as the dust filled her nostrils and lungs. She was slowly choking, suffocating. Unbidden, a rune flashed into her mind. With a frown, she bolted for a nearby alleyway and grabbed her stele, pushing up her jeans and quickly burning the rune onto her leg. She had taken a mere few seconds, but as she sprinted back into the main street of Alicante, she could see that the dust cloud was now only a few feet away.

Something had changed, though. She ran a few more steps, and the buildings around her blurred. When she looked back, the dust cloud was now nearly three times as far behind her as it had been only seconds ago. Clary looked at the fresh rune on her leg incredulously. The rune she has created, which gave her this incredible speed.

After once again tripling the distance between herself and the dust cloud, she looked over her shoulder. Jace, Alec, Isabelle and Jocelyn were still struggling to stay ahead of the rapidly approaching dust cloud.

Clary ran back to them.

"Don't move," she told her mother, knowing she had only seconds to draw the rune before the dust cloud enveloped them. She slashed the rune onto Jocelyn's leg, and did the same for the others.

And they _ran_.

"How did you do that?" demanded Isabelle, once they were a safe distance away from the opaque dust cloud. As they watched, the dust settled, coating Alicante in an inch-thick layer of black dust.

"Never mind that," said Clary, impatiently. The rune was already fading. "Do you... Do you think there were any survivors?"

"We'd better go and see," Isabelle murmured, her voice wobbly. Alec put his arm around her, and Clary realised with a shock that Maryse could easily have been in that building when it collapsed.

_Or Luke_.

They headed for the smouldering ruins of what used to be the Institute, their boots leaving prints in the black dust that covered the streets.

* * *

Simon paid for the perfume, and left the shop.

He tried not to feel bitter about the fact that Clary had once again run off to have an adventure with Jace, and left him behind. It wasn't her fault, he reasoned, but he couldn't quite stop jealousy from rearing its ugly head.

His phone began to play "Who Let the Dogs Out?", so he answered it, transferring the perfume bottle into his other hand.

"Hey, Luke." He said, holding the phone against his ear with his free hand.

"Simon," said Luke, his voice filled with urgency, "We need to go to Alicante. Now. Come to Magnus' Apartment."

"I can't, I'm a vampire, remember?" said Simon, bitterly.

"Clary and the others are in trouble," insisted Luke.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his mouth going dry, "What kind of trouble?

"The Institute has been destroyed. Come to Magnus'. _Now_, Simon."

And with that, Luke hung up.

Looking down, Simon realised that he had gripped the thin perfume bottle so hard that he had crushed it. He wiped the perfume off his hand onto his shirt, and hailed a taxi to take him to Magnus'. Within minutes, the small cuts on his hand had healed.

When he arrived, and headed up to the apartment for the second time that day, Maia answered the door.

"Simon!" she said, brightening, "Are you coming, too?"

"Looks like it," said Simon, with a shrug. Luke, Jordan, and Magnus appeared, their expressions grave.

"We're all here," said Luke, with a sigh, "I guess we'd better get on with it. Magnus, can you make the portal now please?"

"I thought I'd escaped all this when I broke up with Alec," muttered Magnus. But he did it, and they stepped through the swirling portal.

They arrived in Alicante, in front of what used to be the Institute.

He gasped. Maia's eyes were wide, and Luke just looked shell-shocked. Amongst the smouldering rubble, blackened corpses littered the ground. He could see Isabelle, Clary, Jace, Alec and Jocelyn searching for survivors, but they didn't seem to be having much luck.

"Simon!" cried Isabelle suddenly, looking up and noticing him. She ran over to him and threw her arms around him, with a sob.

"Ssh," he said, awkwardly, patting her back. "There, there."

She wrinkled her nose.

"You smell like figs," she told him.

"Fig perfume," he explained, "It's a long story."

"Where did you get it?" asked Alec, walking over to them, "I can't find fig perfume anywhere."

"And to think, I used to believe he was straight," muttered Jace, as he joined them.

Simon put his arm around Isabelle, as Clary and Jocelyn came towards them. Was he imagining it, or was there a quick flash of jealously in Clary's green eyes? But no, he must have imagined it. Clary would never be jealous of Isabelle. What possible reason could she have to be jealous of her?

* * *

_**Sorry, that's all I've got time for right now D:**_


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